XI
“Well, my dear, haven’t you found any situation for me yet?”
“Not yet, Viéra Pavlovna, but don’t despair; we shall find one. Every day I go to see two or three families. It is impossible that a respectable place will be not found at last where you can live.”
“Akh! but if you only knew, my friend, how hard, how hard, it is for me to remain here. When there was no near possibility for me to escape from this degradation, from this misery, I kept myself by main force in a deathly apathy. But now, my friend, it is too suffocating in this foul, wretched atmosphere!”
“Patience, patience, Viéra Pavlovna. We shall find something.” Here is an example of their talk for a week.
Tuesday.—“Patience, patience, Viéra Pavlovna, we shall find something.”
“My friend, how much trouble this is causing you! What a waste of time! How can I repay you?”
“You will repay me, my dear, by not getting vexed.” Lopukhóf said this, and became confused. Viérotchka looked at him. No, it was not that he did not finish his sentence; he did not intend to add to it, and he is waiting for her answer.
“What should I be vexed about? What have you done?” Lopukhóf became still more confused, and seemed to be grieved.
“What is the matter, my friend?”
“To think you did not notice it at all!” He spoke so sorrowfully, and then he laughed so gayly. “Akh, bozhe moï! how stupid I am, how stupid! Forgive me, my friend.”
“Nu! what is the matter?”
“Nothing; you have already given me my reward.”
“Akh! what do you mean? What a jester you are! Well, all right, you may call me so.”
On Thursday came the “Trial of Hamlet,” according to Sakson’s Grammar. For several days after that, Marya Alekséyevna takes some little—though not much—rest from her inspection.
Saturday.—After tea, Marya Alekséyevna goes out to count over the clothes which the laundress had brought.
“My dear, I think the matter will be successful.”
“Really? If that is so, Akh, bozhe moï! Akh, bozhe moï! arrange it as soon as possible! It seems to me that I shall die if this is to go on much longer. When will it be, and how?”
“It will be decided tomorrow. The hope is almost, almost certain.”
“What is it? How is it?”
“Keep calm, my friend; you’ll be noticed. Here you are almost dancing with joy. Marya Alekséyevna will be back after something if you don’t look out.”
“Well, you are a fine fellow! You came in so radiant that mámenka looked at you a long time.”
“At any rate, I told her why I was happy; I saw that it was necessary to tell her, and so I said that I have found a splendid place.”
“You horrid, horrid man! here you keep cautioning me, and you have not told me, as yet, a single thing. What is it? Do tell me at last!”
“This morning Kirsánof—you know, my dear, that my chum’s name is Kirsánof—”
“I know, you horrid, horrid man, I know! Now, speak quick, without any more nonsense.”
“You, yourself, are hindering me, my friend.”
“Akh, bozhe moï! and all these digressions without ever once coming to the point. I don’t know how I could punish you. I will get you down on your knees yet; it cannot be done here. I command you to get down on your knees in your room, as soon as you get home, and I want your Kirsánof to look on, and then send me a note, saying that you were down on your knees. Do you hear what I am going to do with you?”
“Very good; I will get down on my knees; and now I shall hold my peace. After I have undergone my punishment and am forgiven, I will speak.”
“I forgive you; only speak, you horrid man!”
“Thank you; you grant forgiveness when you yourself are to blame. You, yourself, have made all the interruptions.”
“Viéra Pavlovna, why do you call me so? I thought you were going to call me my friend?”
“Yes, I meant it as a reproach, my friend! I am a man easily offended, and very severe!”
“A reproach? How dare you make me reproaches? I do not want to hear you!”
“You don’t?”
“Certainly I don’t. What is there for me to hear? You have told me everything already—that the matter will be arranged, that it will be decided tomorrow; you see, my friend, you yourself don’t know anything more today. What is there to hear? Goodbye, my dear (Dō svidánya, moï drūg)!”
“But listen to me, my friend; my friend, do listen!”
“I am not going to listen; I am going away.” She came back. “Speak quick! I will not interrupt you. Akh, bozhe moï! if you only knew how happy you have made me! Give me your hand! See how warmly, warmly, I press it!”
“But why are your eyes full of tears?”
“I thank you, I thank you!”
“This morning Kirsánof gave me the address of a lady who made an appointment for me to call on her tomorrow. I am not personally acquainted with her, but I have heard much about her from a mutual friend who acted as go-between. I know her husband though; we have met at our friend’s many times. Judging from all this, I am sure that one could get along well in her family; and when she gave her address to her friend, she said that she was certain that we should agree about terms. Consequently, the matter can be looked upon as almost absolutely settled.”
“Akh! how good it will be! what joy!” murmured Viérotchka. “But I want to have it settled soon, as soon as possible! Will you come from her directly to us?”
“No, my dear; that would rouse suspicions. I never come here except during lesson hours. I’ll do this way. I will send a letter to Marya Alekséyevna by mail, saying that I shall not be able to give the lesson on Tuesday, and shall have to postpone it till Wednesday. If the letter says Wednesday morning, you will understand that the matter is arranged; if it says Wednesday evening, you will know that it has fallen through. But it is almost certain to read in the morning. Marya Alekséyevna will tell it to Feódor, and to you and to Pavel Konstantinuitch.”
“When will the letter get here?”
“In the evening.”
“It’s so long! No, I shall not have enough patience! And then what shall I learn from the letter? Only yes, and then I shall have to wait till Wednesday! It is torturing. If it is yes, I shall go and call on the lady as soon as I can. I shall want to know all about it. But how can it be managed? This is the way I’ll do; I’ll be waiting for you on the street when you leave that lady’s.”
“My friend, that would be still more risky than for me to call on you. No! it would be much better for me to call on you!”
“No! perhaps it would be impossible for us to have a word together. At any rate, mámenka might become suspicious. No! it would be better as I suggested first. I have such a thick veil that no one would recognize me through it.”
“Well, I admit that your plan seems feasible. Let me think!”
“There’s no time to think! Mámenka may be here any minute. Where does the lady live?”
“On Galernaïa Street, near the bridge.”
“What time shall you call on her?”
“She appointed twelve o’clock.”
“At twelve I shall be sitting on the Konno-Gvardéïsky Boulevard, on the last bench, and at the end nearest the bridge. I said that I would wear a thick veil; but here’s a sign for you: I will carry a roll of music in my hand. If I am not there on time you will know that I am detained. But you sit down on that bench and wait. I may be late, but I shall be there without fail. How well I have planned it! How grateful I am to you! How happy I shall be! How is your bride, Dmitri Sergéitch? See, I call you Dmitri Sergéitch instead of my friend! How glad, how glad I am!”
Viérotchka ran to the piano, and began to play.
“My dear! What a degradation to art! How ruinous to your taste to give up operas for galops!”
“Certainly, certainly!”
In a few minutes Marya Alekséyevna returned. Dmitri Sergéitch played two-handed “preference” with her. At first he won; then he allowed her to win. He even lost thirty-five kopeks. This was the first time, and it filled her with victorious glory, and when he went away he left her greatly pleased; not so much on account of the money as on account of the victory. There are purely ideal pleasures even for hearts soiled with materialism, and this is proof positive, that a materialistic explanation of life is unsatisfactory.